Assault or Attrition
The Second Book
in
The Arena Mode
Saga
Assault or
Attrition
Arena Mode Saga Volume Two
Cover Art by Amir Salehi
Arena Mode Logo by Dennis Salvatier
Arena Mode is
Copyright © and Trademark
2013-2014
Blake Northcott, Digital Vanguard Inc.
and Noösphere
Publishing
All characters
appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Except for the
people on Kickstarter who paid to have superhumans and other
characters in the book modeled after them. They’re in the book. But
they asked to be. For realsies.
All rights
reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage
and retrieval systems, without written permission from the
publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may
quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a
review.
My love and
appreciation to everyone on Kickstarter who made this book a
reality!
Extra special thanks to
David R.
Lehmann
Sultan Saeed Al Darmaki
Teach Weaving
Steve McGarrity
Todd Dziobak
And love for the previous Kickstarter heroes
Kenneth
Livitski
Tricia “Arirose” Tahere
J. Paul “Logan” Glendinning
Mariana Garcia
Ray Anderson
Stuart Dinneen
Jeremy J. Rivera
Very special
thanks to
Morris Deutsch
Hugs and
kisses for
Cassie & Cayden
and extra hugs for J.E.S.
Written By
Blake
Northcott
with Sean
Dyer
Editors
Jim Deley, Jeff
Geddes & J.D. Hunter
With additional help from Kiri Callaghan
& Mike 'cleverpawn' Stephenson
Illustrations
By
John
Broglia
with grey tones
by Jasen Smith
with additional
greys and graphics by Sean Dyer
Character
Designs By
Natasha
Allegri
Jason
Baroody
John
Broglia
Comic Book Girl
19
Dave
Johnson
Derek
Laufman
Steve
McNiven
Mark
McKenna
Dan
Panosian
John ‘Roc’
Upchurch
Fair warning:
this page is not part of the story. It’s what we industry insiders
call a ‘Dedication Page’, ie. the part of the book where the author
drones on with her self-indulgent nonsense that nobody reads.
I know, it’s
annoying – I hate these things too. I’ll make it brief.
I considered
not writing one at all, since I said everything I wanted to say in
the dedication of my previous book, ‘Arena Mode’, but these two
simple words definitely bear repeating:
thank you.
If you
contributed to my Kickstarter campaign, you truly are one of the
creators of this book – and for that, I owe you everything.
Since the
summer of 2013, more than 1,500 people from 18 different countries
contributed to the ‘Arena Mode’ and ‘Assault or Attrition’
Kickstarter campaigns. And 23 different editors, illustrators and
various amazing people have helped craft these two books (not to
mention the audio versions – Kiri and Jeff, you are wizards!)
Thanks to
everyone involved, ‘Arena Mode’ hit #1 on Amazon UK in the
Sci-Fi/Superhero category, became part of a high school curriculum
in the state of Florida, and it is being translated into Italian
for its first print run with a publisher. As the saga continues and
the universe grows, I can’t help but think, a) how the heck did
this happen?! and, b) I’d better make this sequel pretty damn good,
or I’ll let a
lot
of people down.
Whether you’re
a backer on Kickstarter, an acquaintance, a dear friend, or one of
my co-pilots on this crazy project, you (yes,
you
specifically) have driven me, day and night, to make this book as
great as it could possibly be.
So again, I
thank you.
All right,
enough of the mushy crap...I’ll stop with this drivel so you can
get on with the rest of your life. Hope you like the book.
Love and hugs,
Blake xox
Table of
Contents
One
“
How did it
feel to kill a superhero?” Her words were muffled by a mouthful of
spaghetti.
I couldn’t help
but smile. Coming from a six-year-old girl the question sounded
perfectly innocent – almost sweet. I knew my sister would have
never allowed her children to watch the Arena Mode tournament, but
she couldn’t isolate them from the rest of the world. Eventually,
some way or another, they were going to discover the truth about
their uncle Matt. And once they did, they’d undoubtedly have some
questions.
Three months
had passed since the summer of 2041, and I was still the most
talked-about man on the planet. Simulcasts speculated about every
aspect of my life: my physical condition, my whereabouts, and the
psychological toll the tournament had taken on me. And whenever the
name Matthew Moxon appeared in the media – almost without exception
– my unfortunate moniker accompanied it:
The God Slayer.
The fact that
I’d won a dangerous sporting event designed for superhumans made
headlines across the globe; the footage had been replayed,
discussed and analysed by everyone from anchormen to
astrophysicists. The little details about how I competed without a
super-power of my own, all while a massive tumor was eating away at
my brain – big news as well. But what the press had
really
been obsessing over, day and night, was
who
I’d eliminated
en route to crossing the proverbial finish line: Sergei Taktarov. A
man who could fly, shoot lasers from his eyes, and was nearly
invincible. A man who many believed to be the Second Coming. The
same man who was now lying on a slab in the morgue beneath the
Kremlin...and all thanks to Uncle Matt.
“Addison!” my
sister hissed. It was that special combination of a shout and a
whisper that parents use to scold their children without making a
scene. “We talked about this.”
“It’s all
right, Liz.” I put down my steak knife and dabbed at the corner of
my mouth with the edge of a napkin. “Let them get it out of their
systems. Better to hear it from me than a kid on the
playground.”
I’d spent
months in seclusion, aggressively avoiding every interview request
that came my way, so I suppose I had this coming to me. With my
permission, and a reluctant nod from their parents, Addison and her
four-year-old brother Austin unleashed a barrage of unfiltered
questions:
“Was that guy
you killed Superman?” No, but he kinda dressed like him.
“Are you
smarter than Lex Luthor?” Yes.
Way
smarter. And I have
better hair.
“Are you rich
now?” Yes.
“Will you buy
us dessert?” Ask your mother.
“Do you have
any super powers?” No. There are some things that even money can’t
buy.
“Did it hurt
when the doctors zapped your tumor?” No, I was asleep when it
happened.
“Does your
brain still work?” Aside from a little bit of short-term memory
loss, yes. At least I
think
it does.
“Are you
Batman?” No.
“Are you Iron
Man?” Nope.
“Are you a
Power Ranger?” Yes. Yes I am.
“Who is that
girl you came in here with?” My accountant.
Austin squinted
at the young redhead sitting at an adjacent table. “Why did your
accounter come here with us?”
It was a fair
question. The petite, well-dressed businesswoman was becoming my
second shadow. Valentina, who was engrossed in a romance novel,
must have overheard my nephew; her lips curled at the edges with
the onset of a smile, but she didn’t reply.
“Yuck,” Addison
blurted out, before I could offer an explanation. “These fries are
gross. Mom, can we go upstairs to the look-out deck?”
